


Christmas at the Kings Pub: A McCree and Sombra Story

by RwBasilotto



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bar, Christmas, Cute, Friendship, Fun, Gen, Overwatch - Freeform, Short, Short Story, Video Game, blizzard, pub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 13:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9125647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RwBasilotto/pseuds/RwBasilotto
Summary: Nothing too crazy just a short story. Expanding on the McCree and Sombra panel from the Overwatch: Reflections comic by Blizzard. This was a Christmas gift to my girlfriend who loves McCree and wanted a little more from his portion in the comic. This is how McCree and Sombra spent their Christmas this year.





	

            The cobblestone street was drenched from a day’s worth of light snow that dusted the city. The street was empty and only the reverberating jingle sound from the spurs of cowboy boots could be heard echoing through the buildings. It was Christmas Eve and Jesse McCree slowly walked that cobblestone road, smoking a cigar and looking at the snow and decorations around him.

            He stepped through large fancy looking doors and entered into a particularly un-fancy pub in which he frequented many nights. The inside of this pub was modest; not too large, decorated for Christmas and no annoying machines or too many TVs. It wasn’t the most extravagant pub in London but, it was nice and it reminded McCree of home. The familiar bells that hit the door were a welcome sound to him. Whenever McCree found himself in London for whatever the reason, he always found time to come to the Kings Pub. There were only three other people in the pub and by the looks of them they were already about done drinking there fill for the holiday season.

            There was no one at the bar counter— _perfect_ —McCree thought— _just the way I like it_ —he walked towards the bar counter.

            “Tellin’ ya’ Bernard,” he said. “I don’t know why I stay in this damn city.”

            McCree took a seat on the last stool at the end of the counter against the wall. Without saying a word Bernard slid him a glass of Deadlock Whiskey—neat.

            “Oh right, that’s why.”

            He smiled and took a long sip of his whiskey and held the glass near his chin, held the liquor in his mouth for a few seconds and swallowed. He let out a long sigh of relief.

            “Sometimes I don’t know what I’ do without you Bernard.” He said.

            “Very kind of you sir,” Bernard replied. He had a thick British accent, as thick as his moustache, that was sometimes hard to understand but, McCree was used to it. “But I believe there are many pubs in this city that sell your vintage.”

            “True,” McCree agreed. “But there ain’t a soul who can pour the glass just the way I like.”

            Bernard only smiled and continued to wipe down the bar. McCree took another long sip of his whiskey and listened to the light melody of Good King Wenceslas on the radio. The tune was interrupted by the ringing bell hitting the door.

            McCree didn’t turn his head— _it was a bar_ —he thought— _don’t matter who comes or goes._ That is until _she_ reached the bar counter.

            “Evening Amigo,” she greeted Bernard and McCree rolled his eyes.

            “Only in London,” Bernard started with a grin. “Would I find Jesse McCree and—”

            McCree stopped listening and tried to ignore the women at the bar and focus on the Christmas carol on the radio. Bernard and her were obviously on a first-name basis but, he had never seen _her_ in this bar before. _Maybe she won’t notice me_ —he thought. He knew that was an impossible wish. She looked over to him and said.

            “Is that Joel over there? Well isn’t this mi día de suerte¹.”

            “I have no use for words I don’t understand, Sombra…don’t start.”

            Sombra laughed, took her scarf off and loosened the large collar of the purple jacket she was wearing, brushing off the light dusting of snow as she did so. She took a long sip of the bottle of beer she ordered—Dorado Honey Light—her favorite craft imported straight from Mexico. Sombra leaned against the counter instead of taking a seat.

            “Surprised to see you here missy,” McCree said starting his third glass of whiskey. “Thought you’d be out ruining somebody’s credit score or bank accounts or leaking some scandal of a diplomat, isn’t that what you rotten’ hacks do?”

            Sombra giggled, “Eso es lindo², you always were a funny man McCree. You know, a little bird told me an interesting secret about you, I wonder what everyone would think if they knew?”

            Bernard interrupted McCree’s comeback with a story about his late wife and how they used to spend Christmases together until her untimely death nine Christmas Eves ago this very day. McCree and Sombra both stayed silent and drank their liquor. Bernard smiled and gave them each another round. Sometime went by of continuous drinking and Bernard broke the silence and said.

            “12 ‘o’clock—it’s now Christmas Day.” He smiled and cleaned a glass.

            Sombra said nothing but, she stared outside the window at the falling snow. She felt something hit her elbow which rested on the counter; she turned to look and found a glass of whiskey by her elbow. She looked first towards Bernard who shook his head smiling under his moustache, then toward McCree who, holding a glass in one hand, tipped his hat with the other. Sombra smiled and accepted his gift, raising her glass to him. He raised his glass to her and said:

            “Merry Christmas Sombra.”

            Sombra winked and said, “Feliz Navidad³, Jesse.”

            McCree downed his drink in one smooth swallow and rested his head in his shoulder, he had enough for tonight. Sombra hesitated, smiled and drank her glass. McCree didn’t know it, as he pretty much passed out on the counter and Bernard didn’t question it, although he probably knew but, as Sombra left the Kings Pub, the register for some reason seemed to put all the drinks on her tab.

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> 1-my lucky day  
> 2-that’s cute  
> 3-merry Christmas  
> First: I hope everyone enjoys this. It was a Christmas present for my girlfriend who wanted a little more from McCree’s panel in the Reflections comic from Blizzard. Second: I changed, the bar setting from, what looked like American-Southwestern in the panel to London to keep with a more snowy Christmas feel to the story, similar to the King’s Row map in Overwatch. Third: I apologize if any of my Spanish translations are wrong.


End file.
